The Devil's Wife
by Shadow of a Black Rose
Summary: Bellatrix was young and innocent when she first met Rodolphus Lestrange but he changes her for the worse. Bellatrix/Rodolphus WARNING: Some smut... if you don't like that then don't read it! Rated M just to be safe! 5 part story...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Anything linked to Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and some parts are borrowed from Carol Ann Duffy who partially inspired this fanfiction.

**Note: **Just a little idea that's been niggling away at me since I first read Carol Ann Duffy's poem 'The Devil's Wife' a few months ago. I blame my English Literature A level for this! Make of it what you will...

**Warning: **There are a few smutty bits. I tried to make them as subtle as possible but when working with a Duffy poem there's not much I can do to get away from sexual content... If you don't like it don't read it... YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

**The Devil's Wife**

**1**

From the moment I met Rodolphus Lestrange on our first day at Hogwarts I knew he was different to other boys. He loved no one more than he loved himself; but really, who could blame him? He was gorgeous: dark hair and eyes, tall, with perfectly toned muscles and an angular jaw. He looked at the girls that fawned over him as if they were filthy muggles rather than pureblood witches. He was quiet as well, and I mean he was really quiet; he barely ever spoke. On the few occasions that I did hear him speak I wondered whether anyone would actually want to speak to him. He was always sarcastic and insulting to anyone he entered into a conversation with. However the strangest thing about Rodolphus, the thing that separated him from every other boy I'd ever met and caught my attention, was that he didn't flirt. Not once had I seen him dropping hints to other girls. He'd never even had a girlfriend as far as I was aware. It was strange but, for some reason, everything about Rodolphus drove me crazy. I'd never met anyone who intrigued me quite as much as he did. He was something new in my world.

On occasions I would catch him staring at me. I could feel his eyes burning into the back of my head as he sat behind me in potions class. Whenever I caught his eye it felt as if he could see right into the depths of my soul. It scared me; but I wouldn't let him know that. I'd stare him out to hide my fears – stupidly thinking I could handle him. I didn't know what I was getting myself into; I didn't realise how dangerous he was. But then again I've always loved danger.

At night, as I lay in bed in the Slytherin girl's dormitory, my mind would fill with images of him. Thoughts flashing around like bolts of lightning; the sort of thoughts that a good little pureblood witch should never even dream of thinking. He was like a poison: burning me up, filling me with deadly feelings, making me a danger to myself. It was then that I made the decision – I had to have him as my own. I needed him to be mine.

I thought it silly how the other girls looked at him. The way they would giggle a little too much when he spoke and stare at him, foolishly, as he passed then in the corridors. I knew that wasn't the type of girl he wanted. He wanted someone as cold and heartless as him; someone who would withdraw themselves from the world that they knew, and allow him to become their new world. So that is the girl I became. I scowled and pouted and sneered, getting the same treatment in return. It didn't take long for him to ask me out. In fact, the colder I was towards him, the more he wanted me.

When our first Hogsmead weekend came along in the third year we met in a shadowed corridor in the seventh floor. He said it would give us more privacy, and no one would find us while they all enjoyed their day away from school. He took me to a room I had never noticed before, opposite a tapestry that depicted a wizard trying to teach trolls to ballet dance. Behind the heavy oak door the room was flooded with a dim red light; a smell of burning flesh lingering in the air and sinister shadows prowling threateningly along the walls. The floor, walls and ceiling were all crafted from a cold, rough stone and, in the centre of the room, a large double bed was sat on a raised platform; black silk sheets and pillows neatly spread over it, with wilted rose petals scattered gently around.

"Sit" he ordered his voice cutting through me like a blade crafted from ice.

I was apprehensive, but I had to obey. I climbed onto the platform, my heels clicking gently beneath me as I went. The scent of the room filled me up and began to disorientate me. The air seemed to thicken as I lowered myself on the cool sheets and placed my hands either side of me. Rodolphus pulled two cigarettes from his pocket, placed both in his mouth and lit them.

"Here..." he climbed on to the platform and slid a cigarette between my lips. The smoke invaded my senses, clouding my mind even further than it was before. I inhaled it deeply and allowed it to linger for a few blissful moments. As the cloud of swirling silver cotton escaped from my body, I could feel my apprehensions melting away and allowed myself to slide back until I was stretched out along the width of the bed.

I couldn't remember much after that; it was as if the power of rational thought had been wiped clean from my being. There was only brief moments where I was alert enough to realise what was happening: he bit down my neck, his sharp teeth ripping away at the pale skin until he reached my breasts and sharply clamped his jaw down, drawing blood; his violent words disgusted me, yet somehow I only wanted him more as he hissed them into my ear; I shrieked as he thrust deep into me, my eyes firmly shut and my claw-like nails embedded in his back.

"We're the same, you and I," he growled in my ear, "That's it."

I felt my heart swell; he regarded me as an equal, the only person he felt connected to in the entire world. Rodolphus had chosen me out of all of those other girls and the feeling made my heart skip a beat.

After dark he took me down to the forbidden forest. It was barely possible to see an inch before my face as he pulled me by the hand, through bushes, between trees, over streams and past numerous clearings bathed in glittering moonlight. We kept delving further and further into the darkness for what felt like hours. By the time we finally stopped I was out of breath and my legs were stinging from cuts and scrapes that had been left there by protruding branches. Rodolphus released his grip on my hand to trail his strong fingers gently up my arm and across my shoulder to the locket that rested on my chest.

"This is nice." he commented, in a matter-of-fact tone, no emotion obvious on his face.

"It was a gift from my mother." I was barely whispering, the confidence I normally held around him seemed to have evaporated into the night.

"So it means a lot to you?" he asked, now staring at the locket with an intense look of concentration.

"Of course, it means the world to me."

"Take it off." I stared at him for a moment, stunned that he would ask me to do such a thing. But he wasn't 'asking' at all... in fact he was clearly giving me no choice in the matter.

"I... why?"

"Don't ask questions Bella, just do it." He ordered without moving his gaze from the locket, which was not sparkling as the moonlight hit it from a small gap in the trees. I lifted my hands to the back of my neck and flicked the clasp, allowing the locket to drop from the light and land, almost invisibly, in his outstretched hand.

"Now..." he hissed, pulling me so close that I could feel the muscles in his chest and stomach flexing gently. "Bury it."

My mouth fell open instantly. Bury it? Why on earth would he want me to bury my most treasured possession deep in the forest where I would probably never see it again? What could possibly benefit him in this? I could feel him trying to press the cold silver into my grasp; I didn't want to take it but I was afraid of what might happen if I didn't.

"Don't fight me Bellatrix!" he warned.

"But... I don't understand why..."

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO QUESTION ME!"

Rodolphus threw me to the ground with a rage I had never seen in him before. I looked up to find his wand aimed directly between my eyes. He didn't utter a word – had no need to voice his curse; but I saw the light spin from the wand's tip and sink into me. I felt the cool breeze that seemed to rush through my body and all my thoughts and worries being wiped clean from my mind. Then... nothing. I didn't think of feel anything that he wouldn't allow.

I remember closing my fingers around my locket; I remember digging a small hole with my hands, and I remember dropping the locket into the darkness. I didn't want to do it but at that moment I had no control over myself or my actions. I moved away from my buried locket, thoughts still absent from my mind, and turned towards Rodolphus. He was smirking distractedly into the darkness behind me, with his wand still pointed in my direction.

'_Come to me'_ his voice whispered inside my head, without a single word escaping his lips.

Still I could not stop myself from obeying him and doing exactly as I was instructed. I was so far lost to his spell that I felt as though I floated to his side rather than walking; like I had left my body behind me and was now simply a ghost of myself, hovering towards him through the darkness until his arms were securely wrapped around my waist.

Rodolphus dropped his wand, leaving it discarded at his feet as he folded his arms around me. Everything came flooding back to me: what I had just done, how the arms holding me firmly in place had thrown me to the floor only moments ago and how confused I was about all of this.

"Now, that wasn't so hard was it?"

"I suppose not," I whispered "but I still don't..."

I never got the chance to finish my sentence. His lips crashed onto mine, battling me for dominance. I forgot everything else in that single moment. My arms snaked around his neck, fingers lacing together and pulling him closer. He bit my lower lip hard and I could feel blood seeping out gently. I didn't care about the pain, I just wanted him. I was no longer pretending to be in control as I had done until that moment. I knew he was the one with power over me. I went mad for the sex in a way I never thought possible. I couldn't describe what we did next if I tried; I was too lost within myself.

After that night we stopped attending classes. Neither of us needed lessons from the half-wit teachers who taught at the school. They didn't know nearly as much as we did about real magic... dark magic. Instead we would spend our time wondering through the darkened woods, or sitting in our room on the seventh floor.

Rodolphus did not allow us to be seen together. He insisted that it was important we were not seen as a couple until we could leave school and marry. I didn't understand why he thought it so important, but I had learned that questioning his motives was the most stupid thing I could possibly do. It didn't bother me anymore; I was too focused on my feelings for him to allow negative thoughts to plague me. So I would walk alone wherever we went, staring ahead, trying not to anger him by turning back to see him following behind me. I had done so once; I had looked back for just a second, to catch the slightest glimpse of him, but I had regretted it. Well, he thought I regretted it. The truth of the matter was I loved the pain he inflicted on me. When his cruciatus curse hit me I could feel fire where my blood should have been. It was the most amazing sensation I had ever experienced, and though I screamed it wasn't in pain; pure pleasure lad laced those shrieks that had been ripped from my body. Maybe I had gone crazy by that point, I can't really be sure. I only know for certain that I was no longer the person I had once been.

Time passed and I noticed something had changed with us. I was no longer able to be myself around him. I had become like a puppet or an object which he moulded to suit himself. He stopped me from speaking my mind. He ceased my ability to see the world around me for what it was. I had gone from being Bellatrix Black: a pureblood witch from a well respected family, to nobody. I had become nobody.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Anything linked to Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and some parts are borrowed from Carol Ann Duffy who partially inspired this fanfiction.

**Note: **Part 2... Hope you're enjoying it! I would be really grateful if you hit that Review button and let me know what you think.

**Warning: **Again... there may be some smut if not some violent imagery!

**The Devil's Wife**

**2**

So many years later, in my dreams, I would climb through the tree tops in the forest, searching for the place where my locket was buried. I now understood why Rodolphus had wanted me to bury it there. He hadn't just taken an important belonging of mine; he had taken me. I was buried in that forest with the locket, and it was I who had left myself there – covered in mud and hidden so well that I would never again be the girl I once was. I can no longer remember how it happened or the exact timing – it has been far too many years to remember such details.

So much has happened since Rodolphus and I left Hogwarts. First, we got married. It was simple, with only a few family members present. If I'm honest, I don't really remember much of the day. It's almost like I wasn't really there, although I know I was. The ring on my finger is proof of that.

After we were officially husband and wife, Rodolphus began to invite large numbers of strangers to the house. They would shut themselves in the drawing room for hours on end and use numerous silencing charms so I could not over hear any of their conversations. I never recognised any of these men that my husband seemed to know so well. Some even came with masks covering their faces. Even if I had known them for my entire life, I wouldn't have recognised them. I tried to ask who all of these people were but Rodolphus would simply order me to stop asking questions of matters that didn't concern me. After a while, however, I got my answer. I was invited to attend one of the meetings to see if I was 'suitable'. What I had to be suitable for was a mystery to me, but I went along with it purely out of curiosity. I was told about the group of men who called themselves 'Death Eaters' and their leader, a man who went by the name of Lord Voldemort. I met many of the men who had been visiting my home for months. I found that I knew a few from school, including Lucius Malfoy – husband of my youngest sister Narcissa. But, most importantly, I met the Dark Lord. He told me that I would become one of his followers; I had no say in the matter. I had no say in the matter. I had knelt at his feet as he pointed his wand at my left forearm and marked me as his own. The skull with a serpent tongue had seared my porcelain flesh and become a permanent part of me. Then he had sent Rodolphus and I on a mission, along with a few of the other Death eaters.

I became well known for completing that mission, despite only remembering simple details. I knew that I had tortured the Longbottoms to insanity, laughing as I did it; but I did not have control over myself at the time. Once again I had been under my husband's power and there had been nothing I could do about it.

I was sent to Azkaban for the crime I had not wanted to commit. I had sat in my cell and cut through my skin with jagged rocks, allowing my blood to flow from the wound and pool around me – trying, with every fibre of my being, to make amends for the pain and loss I had caused.

Nobody liked me after that. Not my eyes, or hair, or the way I spoke. Rodolphus had taken everything from me and I had allowed it. He could have stopped my heart for what he had left me with. I had only managed to hold onto my sanity until that point; but once I lost the few people who still held high opinions of me, even the last strands of my sane mind were ripped apart.

Outside my little cell the whole world knew my name.

"That woman is pure evil," they would say "it's a wonder that the ministry haven't ordered Bellatrix Lestrange's death."

Many called me the Devil's wife, and to some extent I believed them to be right; at least, they were correct in believing Rodolphus to be the Devil. He showed no remorse for what we had done; he would not allow me to do so either. I was forced to stare the cameras down as they glared at me from all directions. I had no option but to hold my head high and pretend that I didn't care while the minister of magic listed our crimes, looking down on us in disgust.

Our trial turned out as I had expected. We were locked up in the maximum security ward of Azkaban and left to rot. I knew they had no intention of ever seeing us free again; it meant nothing to me then. I could have died there and I wouldn't have cared. I knew it was what I deserved.

In my eyes Rodolphus had become Hades, Lord of the underworld, the Devil. He was evil, mad, everything that I had sworn as a child that I would stay away from. He had changed me into someone I didn't want to be. But in some ways I was worse than him, for I had allowed myself to become the murderous monster that I was – and all for love.

Only one year had passed in the prison when Rodolphus died. He had caused too much hassle for the guards and was given to the dementors as punishment. It broke my heart – even though I hated how he changed me, I never wanted to see him gone... I loved him. I shrieked and cried for weeks after, as my life became darker and more painful. I felt an emptiness that I hadn't known for years. If the Devil was gone then how had my life become so much like hell?


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **Anything linked to Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and in this section a fair amount is borrowed from Carol Ann Duffy who partially inspired this fanfiction. Obviously I don't mean to take credit for anyone else's work...

**Note: **Part 3! Pretty please Review, I worry that I'm not very good at this sometimes...

**Warning: **Again... there may be some smut if not some violent imagery!

**The Devil's Wife**

**3**

The questions began again after Rodolphus' death, and they were like a torture in themselves. The numerous ministry employees just didn't understand that I couldn't remember most of the terrible things I had done.

"To what extent did you assist your husband in the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom?" they would ask with looks of disgust on their ugly faces.

"No. Not me. I didn't. I couldn't. I wouldn't." It was the same answers I had been giving them all day. I was trying so hard to make them understand; but how do you explain, to a group of self righteous wizards who detest you, that your husband forced you to do terrible things against your will. They simply would not believe a word I was saying.

"What was the exact combination of spells used in the torture?" they continued, completely ignoring my response.

"Can't remember. No idea. Not in the room."

"Mrs Lestrange, this is becoming immensely dull. If you don't begin to cooperate soon we will be forced to subject you to the same punishment as your late husband" one of them had warned me, clearly enjoying his chance to threaten me.

"Get me a bible." I had ordered as calmly as I could. The authority in my tone was probably a bad move but it was the tone I had been taught to use against these types since I was a child; and in any case, it gained me their full attention. "Honestly, I will swear to you that I am telling the truth. I never tortured anyone, at least not of my own free will. I would never, in a million years, dream of doing such a terrible thing. It was him."

A few eyebrows were raised but no bible was brought to me. The only thing I received was a sharp backhand that split my lip and bruised my eye.

"Mrs Lestrange, I hope you're won't be forgetting your place. You seem to be working under the delusion that you have the right to give orders around here. I don't hesitate to remind you that we are the ones with power here and your blood status does not overrule that power."

I spat my blood on the floor at their feet but didn't answer. I knew my place now and, despite everything I wanted to say to them, I knew that answering back would only cause more problems for me. I did not want to end up in the same state as Rodolphus.

"Now we will ask you again and this time we want the truth. What combination of spells did you and your fellow Death Eaters use on the Longbottoms?"

"Can't remember. Not in the room." They were right about one thing; this really was becoming extremely dull.

"Mrs Lestrange..."

"No! This is unfair. You have already made up your minds. It's not right to keep questioning me like this if it will have no benefit for me. All of these accusations – they're not true. It didn't happen in the way you keep insisting it did." I was losing all self control. I couldn't carry on with all of their questions.

"Were you aware that the Longbottoms had a young son who was in the house during their torture?" they completely ignored me yet again.

"Didn't see. Didn't know. Didn't hear."

"Was your husband aware of it?"

"Maybe. Maybe. Not sure. Not certain. Maybe."

"Oh for heaven's sake Mrs Lestrange, just tell us exactly what happened at the Longbottom's house. This is your last chance."

I simply sighed and crossed my arms over my chest. I stared at each of their ugly faces in turn before resting my gaze directly ahead of me.

"Can't remember. No idea. It was him. It was him. Can't remember. No idea. Not in the room. No idea. Can't remember. Not in the room."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **Anything linked to Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and in this section a fair amount is borrowed from Carol Ann Duffy who partially inspired this fanfiction. Obviously I don't mean to take credit for anyone else's work...

**Note: **Say hello to part 4... Just one more part to go! Really hope you're enjoying it and I'd be grateful for any feedback. Sorry that this one's so short but the section of the poem that I was working with didn't leave me with much to say, but then again it is the shortest section of the poem. Now ON WITH THE SHOW!

**Warning: **Again... there may be some smut if not some violent imagery!

**The Devil's Wife**

**4**

Each of the fourteen years I spent in Azkaban melted into the next. It was as if I was trapped in a never ending night – A never ending darkness. I spent most of my days crying or punishing myself for my crimes in any way I could.

The other prisoners constantly praised me for what I'd done and treated me as though I were some sort of Dark Queen. I, on the other hand could see the demon that had been growing in the place of my heart and I was still mortified by my actions. I had gone far past insane at that point; I was practically a half dead soul trapped in a woman's body. Voices screamed in my mind constantly, never allowing me a moment of peace to forget the creature that sat there in my place.

"SUFFER! MONSTER! BURN IN HELL!" they would howl in the depths of my tattered and torn mind. All I could do was listen and wish that I could just die on that spot.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **Anything linked to Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and in this section a fair amount is borrowed from Carol Ann Duffy who partially inspired this fanfiction. Obviously I don't mean to take credit for anyone else's work...

**Note: **This is the last part of The Devil's Wife... I've thoroughly enjoyed writing this and I think I'm gonna miss it a lot! But the show must go on (sorry about the theatre sayings... I'm a performer so it's just the kind of sayings I use a lot) ENJOY & REVIEW! 3

**Warning: **Again... there may be some smut if not some violent imagery!

**The Devil's Wife**

**5**

I was freed from that terrible place one stormy night; pulled to freedom by the Dark Lord – my saviour. All my sanity had been gone for years, I looked a mess and my magic was in low supply; but I could finally come and go as I pleased. I was able to feel the wind and breath fresh air.

As I stand on a cliff top now, looking out to the ends of the earth, I can't help but question what could have been.

If I'd been stoned to death?

If I'd been hung by the neck?

If I'd been shaved and strapped to the chair?

If an injection?

If my peroxide head on the block?

If my outstretched hands for the chop?

If my toung torn out at the root?

If from ear to ear my throat?

If a bullet?

A hammer?

A knife?

If life means life means life means life?

But the punishment I received is so much worse. Yes, I did terrible things to those Aurors; but I suffered a fate worse than theirs. I allowed myself to be turned into a monster. I allowed myself to kill and torture and cause all kinds of grief. They don't realise there's something wrong with me. Now I am going to make amends for the things that I did, when I was the Devil's wife.


End file.
